


The Blanket

by cybergirl614



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Cas and Netflix, Castiel and Dean in Love, Castiel and Netflix, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean's blanket, Fluff and mild angst, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Not betad, Oneshot, SO MUCH FLUFF, Season 11 fic, The Blanket, horribly fluffy, maybe pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cybergirl614/pseuds/cybergirl614
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is alone in the bunker, watching Netflix, but maybe not so completely, with something draped around him to remind him of Dean...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blanket

Castiel is sitting back, watching the end credits roll. He doesn’t have to get up, but he wants to get up. He wants more hot pockets from the kitchen, maybe another soda, and… He stands, about to move away from the bed across the room, when he realizes he left something.

His fingers graze the fuzzy wool, gray with bits of lint stuck from where he’s been wearing it incessantly over the past week. Week? Weeks? Months? It all blurs together. One show after another, human food, sleep he physically needs less and less as he recovers, and research. Dean calls every so often, returns to the bunker far less often, but when he does, Castiel can breathe again. But he’s not so alone even now; the blanket goes all over the bunker with him. He doesn’t need it, not in the physical sense. He’s not in shock, he’s not human, he’s an angel. But in another sense, he does need it, so very badly.

He needs the reminder that he’s not alone. He needs the smell—Dean’s smell, it’s his blanket—after all. In the days, weeks—however long it’s been, and just how long exactly doesn’t really matter—Cas can smell Dean on it. Well, could. It’s been fading. But if he thinks hard, he thinks he can spot Dean’s smell in the mixture of molecules his angelic perception allows him to sense. Maybe he can’t really smell it anymore, but he knows it’s there, somewhere, because it’s Dean’s blanket. 

It’s been too long, he realizes, late one night so late it’s actually early morning—the smell is gone, but the fact Dean has touched it isn’t. He turns off the episode and begins to drift off, into a sleep heavy enough the sounds of the bunker doors opening don’t wake him. It isn’t from physical exhaustion. That’s something he’s nearly over by now. No, instead it’s from the desire for at least a short while not to face the craving that’s slowly grown inside him. So he sleeps deeply. 

The only thing that does wake him is when the door to his room opens, and a hand is on his shoulder, a pair of green eyes gazing down at him.

“Hey, Cas, man,” Dean says. “I tried to call you, tell you we were coming by, but—“

“But nothing,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s where it still lingers on his shoulder. “I know you don’t have long…but…” he sighs, still not letting go of Dean’s hand, and Dean isn’t moving to try to make a break for it. 

“But?” Dean smiles now, maybe a little confused, but not judging. 

“Will you stay here with me?” Cas asks. 

“Yeah…” Dean sighs. “I can do that, Cas.” 

Castiel rolls over, pulling back the blankets to make room for Dean, who’s already kicking off his boots, then thinks better as the hunter settles in beside him.   
He untucks the blanket from his own shoulders, handing it to Dean, who accepts it with a mildly quizzical look.

“Uh, thanks. It is kinda cold out,” Dean shrugs as Cas shifts to rest a hand on his shoulder. Castiel tenses for a moment, unsure of the reception, but Dean leans in, sighing. Cas sighs too, whispering something in Dean’s ear. 

Then they’re both asleep, the hunter exhausted from his travels, and the angel finally satisfied with what he’s been missing for days. Weeks. Weeks? But ever moment without Dean has felt like a lifetime, so…maybe eons is a better descriptor. 

Dean has to leave again in the morning, but Cas has the blanket. And it smells like Dean again. Dean promises to be back in not-too-long, and Cas knows he will be.


End file.
